Anything but a Last Resort
by sheltielover
Summary: I don’t know when I fell in love with her. Falling in love never seemed the right words for how I felt for Hermione, because falling in love suggests the fact that I could fall out of love with her a fact I know to be impossible. RHr. One shot. HBP spoile


**A/N:** Yet another Ron/Hermione one shot from yours truly. You'd thought I'd run out of them hadn't you? Well you had hoped at least. **I experimented with a different tense than I usually write in with this so please tell me if I've screwed up royally.**

**Disclaimer:** Ron and Hermione belong to the amazing JKR.

I sit at the table at the reception fiddling with my place card. Bill and Fleur had already left. A blush began to creep up my neck as I thought of what they must be doing right now. My blush grew deeper as I thought that until recently _I_ wouldn't have minded doing that with Fleur.

I think Lavender might have wanted to do that. I never let it get that far though. Something always held me back.

I look up to gaze upon that something.

She's standing there, deep in conversation with Ginny, Tonks, and Lupin. She's wearing the new dress robes she bought at Diagon Alley last summer. They're not periwinkle like the ones she wore to the Yule Ball. These are some kind of pale greenish-blue shiny material. They're different.

She's different.

I'm different.

Since the Yule Ball we've grown together and we've grown apart. We've had fierce rows and mumbled apologies. We've worried about Harry together. We've laughed. She's cried. We've survived unspeakable dangers. We've had Krum. We've had Fleur. We've had McLaggen. We've had Lavender. But above all, we've had each other.

I steal another glance at her. Tonks and Lupin have left and now she's just speaking with Ginny. She's beautiful. I've always known it, but tonight, tonight with the candlelight falling on her hair like that…

I don't deserve her. She's smart, beautiful, witty, passionate, determined, and compassionate, just to name a few virtues. Who am I? I'm stubborn, mediocre, nothing out of the ordinary, Ron.

But she sticks with me. She's put up with all my shortcomings for six years now and she shows no signs of stopping. I let her down, I hurt her, and I even make her cry, yet she always forgives me.

I don't know when I fell in love with her. Falling in love never seemed the right words for how I felt for Hermione, because falling _in_ love suggests the fact that I could fall _out_ of love with her; a fact I know to be impossible. Falling in love also makes it seem as if there was a time I _wasn't_ in love with her and I can't imagine that.

The logical part of my brain argues with me on this point. Yes I know I thought her insufferable in the beginning but I think I always realized she was different. Something clicked when I was around her and it scared the hell out of me. It still scares the hell out of me.

Maybe I don't know when I fell in love with her but I know when I realized I loved her. It was at Dumbledore's funeral when she was crying into my shoulder. I was holding her, stroking her hair, and trying my best to make soothing sounds. When she was there, shaking in my arms, so close I could smell the faint wafts of her lilac perfume I felt complete for the first time in my life. The rest of the pieces tumbled into place faster than Harry's Firebolt.

I had known I fancied her since I saw her dancing with Krum at the Yule Ball. I remember when that realization hit me. I was glaring at Krum twirling her around when she smiled at him. She didn't just smile at him though. She gave him _my_ smile. The smile she never used for Harry, only for me. As soon as I saw that, my insides turned into a bubbling sludge reminiscent of one of my feeble Potions attempts.

And then I knew.

I denied it to myself all of fourth year. I convinced myself my hormones were making me think crazy things. I decided I didn't really like Hermione like _that_. The reason I wanted to strangle Krum every time he looked at her was because I was fiercely protective of those close to me. I'd do the same for Ginny. That's all I was doing. I was mistaking brotherly affection for something _totally_ different.

I kept telling myself that for the first part of fifth year too. Then I learned Ginny was going out with Michael Corner and I realized I wanted to hurt Krum in a very different way than I wanted to hurt Michael.

I could hold off inflicting bodily harm upon Michael until he hurt Ginny. I wanted to torture Krum right then and there for even thinking about Hermione.

That night, lying in bed, staring at the hangings I accepted the fact I fancied my best friend.

I didn't even _think_ I loved her until Dumbledore's funeral. I knew I fancied her a _lot_, but I wasn't mature enough to consider the 'L' word. Dumbledore's death made us all grow up and mature like none of the other trials we've been put through in our young lives.

It made us realize whom we were up against. It made us realize none of us were safe. It made us realize life is fleeting. It made us realize we needed to live each day to the fullest.

It made us realize we could be next.

So I accepted my feelings. Which brings me here, to this table where I sit staring at her. I haven't told her how I feel. I can't. If she doesn't feel the same I don't know if our friendship will survive it. We can't fall apart now. Harry needs us.

And even if, as part of me suspects, she _does_ feel the same I don't want to tell her until I can offer her something. Our search for the Horocruxes will be tempestuous and unpredictable. I can't give her any stability and I can't promise her anything. She deserves more than that.

I don't know how long it will take to defeat You-Know-Who. It could take one year, it could take five, or it could take twenty. All I know is the moment he's gone I'll turn to Hermione and tell her what she's deserved to hear since the moment she barged into Harry and my lives.

She's alone now. Mum's dragged Ginny off to greet one of our many great aunts, so she's standing by herself, slowly turning in a circle as she scans the room. She spots me looking at her and her face lights up in a smile.

My smile.

She glides over to me and drops into the chair beside me.

"Hi." I tell her, abandoning my place card.

"Knut for your thoughts." She says conversationally as she takes off her heeled shoes. "These things are killing me."

"I was just thinking about us and our friendship." I say, enjoying the look of rapt attention she's giving me. That's one of the things I love about her. She makes me feel like the things I'm saying are worthwhile. She makes me feel intelligent and interesting.

"What about it?" She asks me innocently.

"I don't know what I'd do without it." I say, smiling at her.

She blushes slightly. "Well you know we'll always be best friends, right Ron?"

"Always?"

"Always." She affirms with a nod of her head.

"No matter what?" I prod.

"No matter what." She says firmly.

I smile at her again. I want to tell her now all that I'm feeling inside, but I know I can't. Instead I settle for the next best thing.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" She responds, her eyes boring into mine.

"Would you like to dance?"

She smiles at me. "I thought you'd never ask."

**A/N:** No they don't confess their undying love and yes I'm leaving it here. I really don't think they'll admit anything until after Voldemort is vanquished. _Shrugs_. Flame if you want but that's what I think at the moment. Reviews would be nice and are usually good for the self-esteem. **Thank you for reading!**


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